


Building Rapport

by squidears



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blackwatch Genji Shimada, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 20:44:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11425860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidears/pseuds/squidears
Summary: Genji decides to give this 'bonding' thing a try.





	Building Rapport

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic for the Overwatch fandom! I didn't see a lot of Tracer and Genji interacting, and I thought they'd get along rather well so I had to change that. I'm leaving this as a oneshot for now, but if people want more/ have more ideas for Blackwatch!Genji bonding with other Overwatch members, I'd be happy to oblige.

For the first time since he’d come to Overwatch, Genji decided it would be a good idea to participate in one of the “rapport building activities” Morrison pushed so much. He was trying to get himself excited to socialize, to bring out the social butterfly he’d been before the accident, but if he was being honest with himself, he was mostly doing this so that Angela would clear him for missions. Genji’s reclusive behavior worried her, and she told him so at every appointment; all he heard about was “social support circle” this and “community engagement” that.

It wasn’t like he had anything else to do on a Friday night, Genji thought sullenly as he made his way towards the rec room. Not anymore, he didn’t; he wasn’t allowed outside of the Watchpoint except for missions, and even if he was allowed outside, he wasn’t exactly getting into nightclubs and picking up chicks when he looked like…  _ this _ . Girls (and guys, for that matter) weren’t really into scarred, gnarled torsos attached to what looked like the bottom two-thirds of an Omnic.

“Oh, Genji! Good to see you’re joining us!” The cyborg heard a high-pitched, British voice say, drawing him out of his own thoughts. He simply stared at the diminutive brunette laying on the couch, unable to remember anything other than her call sign.

“It is good to see you as well, Tracer.”

The woman gave a bright, tinkling laugh. “There’s no need to be so formal, love! While we’re off duty, you can call me Lena,” she replied warmly. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to how bright and friendly Lena was to him, despite Genji looking like something out of a horror movie at this point in his ‘treatment’. Then again, she  _ was _ best friends with a hyper-intelligent gorilla, so maybe Genji was practically normal in comparison.

“Okay… Lena.” He knew it was a Western thing, calling your colleagues and equals by their given names, but it was still  _ weird _ . The only reason he’d told everyone in the Watchpoint to refer to him solely by his given name was because his family name was a dark stain in his memory.

“Winston should be down in a bit, he’s grabbing snacks… which really means he’s completely forgotten about popcorn and is looking for his industrial jar of peanut butter,” Lena said, rolling her eyes. “Jesse should be coming, too. I managed to convince him we’re watching something with a Western theme.”

“...Are we?”

Lena smirked. “Well, I’ve heard Star Trek described as a ‘Space Western’...”

Genji was surprised to find himself laughing, and even more surprised at how strange and robotic it sounded— so surprised that his laughter cut off prematurely, as he was called back to reality. He’d long gotten used to his new voice, but he’d never laughed as a cyborg before now, so the laughter in his head still sounded like it had years ago. Before his father had died, before his brother decided he was too much of a liability to live.

Was the last time he laughed really years ago?

“I  _ knew _ you could laugh!” Tracer blurted, sounding vindicated. “Winston thought maybe you couldn’t, something about artificial diaphragms not being built for that sort of thing, but I knew Ange wouldn’t throw someone out into the world without giving them to the ability to laugh. I mean, it  _ is _ the best medicine!” She finally realized Genji was giving her a cold, irritated look, and she flushed up to the tips of her ears. 

“Sorry. Sometimes, I talk so fast that I don’t think about what I’m saying,” she said solemnly, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. Her chronal dissociation often meant Lena acted older than her age, especially on missions, but it was times like these that Genji was reminded of how young she really was. “...You have a very nice laugh, though. I’m glad I was the first agent to hear it.” The smirk returned once again. “Now I can hold it over McCree’s head forever, as proof that I’m the funniest person in the Watchpoint.”

Genji snorted, rolling his eyes. “It is alright, I understand. When I was your age, I was even worse. I did and said whatever came to mind, without thinking of the consequences.” So much for keeping things light-hearted; Genji was sure Lena could see the way his eyes hardened, and his posture stiffened.

Lena was quiet for a few moments, clearly thinking about what she wanted to say. “It’s hard to imagine you being like that,” she said. “It’s also hard to imagine that you’re old enough to be able to say things like ‘when I was your age’. You can’t be  _ that _ much older than me!”

“I’ve reviewed your personnel file. You are twenty, correct?”

“...Yes.”

“Lena, I’m eight years older than you,” he said, one corner of his lip turning upwards slightly.

“Eight years isn’t that long,” Tracer scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I was chronally dissociated for eight years. Or two decades. Or a month. I’m still not entirely sure.” She tried to keep her tone casual and light, but Genji could easily recognize the strain that came with talking about a traumatic event.

A heavy silence weighed down on the two, Genji unwilling to ask and Lena unwilling to answer. Finally, Genji decided to break the silence with a somewhat related question.

“Tr- Lena, even though the accelerator gave you your life back, do… do you ever feel frustrated that you need it? Like you want to take it off and get rid of it?” Genji fiddled with one of the joints on his artificial hand, feeling the cold, dead weight of it in his remaining flesh one. Despite Angela’s best efforts, the robotic parts of his body still felt like someone else’s. As if he were simply borrowing it until his real, human body got out of the shop.

Lena sighed, running a hand through her hair as she looked over at Genji with tired eyes. “Everyone has moments where they just want to feel normal,” she said, placing a hand on her chronal accelerator. “But then I remember that the chronal accelerator is what gave me a good life. Maybe not a normal one, but a good one. I can see my friends, talk to them, touch them… before the accelerator, I couldn’t do that. I thought I’d be alone forever.” The pilot placed a small, slender hand on Genji’s shoulder. “Take my advice: focus on what you’ve gained, not what you’ve lost. You’ll be a lot happier.”

Genji laughed again, but it wasn’t warm or genuine. It was a sharp, barking sound, made even harsher by his artificial voicebox. “I have lost everything— my body, my home, my humanity, my family. I am not like you, Lena. I have no attachments to this world, no goals except to destroy what was once my clan. I am nothing but a ghost in a shell.”

Lena was silent for a few long, long moments, looking at Genji with an overwhelming sorrow in her eyes. Usually Genji would assume she was pitying him and get angry, but the look was so uncharacteristic of Lena that he felt his heart clench— well, what was left of it did, at least. “You have us, Genji,” she said at last, so softly that he wouldn’t have been able to pick it up without the enhancement of his aural sensors. “We may not be your family by blood, but we all care about you. Angie, Jesse, me, Reinhardt, Winston… Fareeha looks up to you and Jesse like big brothers, you can’t tell me you don’t see it. Even Gabe likes you, as much as he ever likes anybody,” Lena continued. “You might not feel attached to anyone, but I hope you know that we’re all very attached to you.”

The cyborg didn’t know what to say to that, so he decided to give Lena a scrutinizing look, letting cherry-red cybernetic eyes bore into her brown ones. Most people found the borderline demonic color so unnerving that they confessed to any lie when he turned his gaze upon them, but Lena wasn’t confessing anything; whether that was because she was telling the truth or because she was desensitized to Genji’s appearance, the ninja couldn’t tell. He was still trying to process the fact that _ people supposedly cared about him  _ when the door to the rec room opened, and his rather intense conversation with Lena was therefore ended.

For now.


End file.
